"𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠.."

His hands were stained with blood. Mine trembled from the keys I'd just played. The studio door slammed behind him. The silence in the soundproofed room enveloped us. His molten, unblinking eyes traced my sweat-slicked skin. I should've been afraid, but fear had long since learned to live beside arousal. "You know what your voice does to me?" He rasped, stepping forward, every inch of him coiled and predatory. "Tiberio..." I whispered, unsure if it was a warning or a plea. He didn't stop. His fingers tangled in my hair, and then his mouth crashed onto mine-hot, brutal, claiming. I gasped as he backed me against the grand piano, the sharp edge digging into my spine while his hips pinned me in place. "I hear you sing," he growled against my mouth, "and I want to ruin you." "You already did," I gasped, my nails digging into his shirt, into the muscle beneath. "No," he hissed, slipping his hand between my thighs. "That was foreplay." His touch was possessive-ruthless. There was no tenderness in the way he lifted me onto the piano, no apology when he tore the buttons of my blouse open one by one with a patience that made me ache. "Everyone listens to your voice," he said, pressing his mouth to my throat, "but only I get to make it scream." His tongue traced down the column of my neck, his fingers dipping beneath my panties like he had every right. And maybe he did. Maybe I gave it to him when I let him back me into the shadows. When I stopped singing for freedom and started singing for vengeance. I moaned his name again-broken, breathless. And he smiled against my skin. "That's it, soloista. Sing for me." And I did. With no mic. No stage. Just his hands, his mouth, and the devil's rhythm pounding through my pulse. ***** A novel steeped in lust, betrayal, and twisted love-where every note she sings brings someone closer to their ruin.

Rosandria Manson is chaos in heels-sharp-tongued, gorgeous and untouchable. A tattoo artist by night and a fashion designer by day, she lives fast, fights dirty, and never answers to anyone. Not even her bloodline. Because Rosandria isn't chaotic for no reason- She's mafia royalty. Born to the most feared syndicate in the underground, she was raised to rule. But when the time came to take her throne, she walked away-leaving her powerful parents still in control while she built an empire of her own. Her past? She keeps it buried. Her power? She keeps it quiet. Until three dangerous men pull her right back into the world she swore she'd never need... Grayson: The soft-spoken mafia heir with eyes full of secrets and hands that flinch from touch. His trauma runs deep and his walls are taller than most men's pride. He flinches at touch, but somehow-he lets her in. With her, he doesn't have to speak. She reads his silence like scripture. Eli: Confident, dominant, but shockingly tender when he lets go. He challenges her, pushes her buttons, and lets her push right back. With him, pleasure is a power game-and no one plays better than Rosandria. Donovan: The sweet, slow-burning boxer and mafia bodyguard who became her best friend first-and something so much more. He's loyal, tender, and deadly when it counts. They each want her. They each need her. But Rosandria? She doesn't belong to any man. Until threats from rival families force her to choose-stay quiet, or rise like the queen she was born to be. Because if war is coming, these men aren't ready for what happens when Rosandria stops hiding and starts leading. Strawberry is a spicy, slow-burn mafia romance with high heat, raw emotion, and a heroine who doesn't bend for anyone-but might just burn the world for love.

Ty (Tylah Jackson) had feelings for her friend Kiara since primary school. Kiara knew but she had a trifling boyfriend, whom she loved. One night at Ty's house turned into a sexual encounter which lead to Justin (Kiara's Boyfriend) finding out. Friendships and Relationships are in jeopardy. Ty confesses her love but they'll go through trouble before living happily.

- Enemies to Lovers - BWWM

"You're a bad person." I said, no bite in my tone at all. "Because I want you?" He asked, tone completely void of shame and eyes as serious as ever. "Because you make me want you." Soleil Toska, like anyone else, was flawed. It was natural to want things that you didn't necessarily need, that didn't make you a bad person. But wanting her new next door neighbor, Derek Akrasia? Now that made her a bad person, she felt. How could she want a man she barely knew? Especially when she already had a boyfriend?

°Two Demon Kings °One Black Woman What could possibly go wrong? . . . READ.THE.TAGS

*FREE STORY* with exclusive chapters STORY LEAVING WATTPAD ON THE 2ND OF JANUARY 2025 Mason Langley has just opened up The Amethyst Casino hotel with his best friend Gunner Scott. The two met 2 years ago in a sex club, where Mason was looking for his next hookup, and Gunner was crazily searching for a long-term relationship. The two couldn't be any more opposite of each other. But as they bonded over their past criminal activities, they became the best of friends and set up their 'legit' business to cover up their illegal business. Delilah has just quit her office job finally having enough of living a boring life and now finds herself on a tragic date in The Amethyst. Just when she thought her night couldn't get any worse, it does the minute she makes eye contact with Mason and Gunner. Two men on a mission to drag her down into their dark world. The problem is, that Delilah is stronger than they think, and she doesn't back down from a fight too easily. Mason vows to never fall in love. Gunner craves it like there is no tomorrow. And Delilah doesn't know what she wants. So what is it that these three really need? *** "I'll ruin your life." Mason rasps, reaching forward to tuck a curl behind my ear, a smug look on his face that I want to get rid of. "We'll ruin you, sweetheart." "Mason, shut the fuck up," Gunner says with gritted teeth. "You sure about that?" A harsh frown etches onto Mason's face at my question, and his hand drops from my face like I've just scorched him. "What do you mean?" I smile. "I'll ruin you." I look at Gunner standing tall behind him. "Both of you."

𝕀𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕒 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕠𝕣 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕚𝕟𝕗𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥